


Something Different

by cloverhoney_angel



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Public Sex, Sharing Clothes, Teasing, Voyeurism, sal wears a skirt, they fuck in a club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 05:25:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17801849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloverhoney_angel/pseuds/cloverhoney_angel
Summary: He had expected Larry’s compliments, his supportive enthusiasm, even, when he’d chosen tonight’s outfit. He hadn’t explicitly considered, however, that all it would take to reduce Larry to a flustered mess—to get his boyfriend to look at him likethat—was a hand-me-down skirt and a pair of fancy socks.





	Something Different

Sal stood nervously in front of his bedroom mirror scrutinizing his reflection. He was preparing to leave with Larry to meet Ash and Todd at a downtown bar for dinner and a few beers.

 

He’d done his hair up in two messy buns, leaving a few longer bits loose to frame his “face.” He wore a black Sanity’s Fall sweatshirt that he’d cropped crudely, leaving the hem frayed, a high-waisted plaid skirt, and black thigh highs held in place by garters, all of which he’d layered over a pair of fishnet tights.

 

He smoothed his hands down the front of the skirt mindlessly. _Good enough._ He grabbed Larry’s old denim jacket  from the chair he’d discarded it over the night before and walked into the living room.

 

“It’s about time baby,” Larry’s head shot up from his phone as the bedroom door creaked open, “I thought you’d fallen asleep or somethi—”

 

Larry's eyes widened, then quickly glazed over at the sight of the blue-haired boy. The taller parted his lips to lick them, his throat working desperately against some unseen force to swallow.

 

“Wow, baby… you look—” he sucked air through his teeth and stood up from the couch to approach him, “… you look great.”

 

Sal felt his face burn under his prosthetic as he laughed breathlessly, nervously, “Thanks, I… I wanted to try something different.”

 

The smaller boy ran his hands down his boyfriend’s chest, looking up at him to smile through his prosthetic.

 

Larry, usually the better between the two of them with words, seemed to still be struggling to speak. “It’s… you look really nice, Sal.”

 

His eyes were full of adoration and something deeper, something hotter, as he tucked a strand of hair behind the shorter boy’s ear.

 

Sal worried his lip, ears growing warm under the praise. He cleared his throat, “We should probably go, Lar.”

 

“Yea… yea we should.” Larry tore his eyes from Sal and ran his fingers through his own hair, “Ash texted me, like, fifteen minutes ago. Said she and Todd already got a table and to, I quote, ‘get your asses here ASAP or you’re paying the bill.’” He put on his best Ash impression.

 

Sal sighed, not unkindly, “Guess we’re in trouble.”

 

The bar was just over twenty minutes from their apartment, but for Larry it felt like an eternity. He could hardly concentrate on the road, stealing one too many glances over towards the passenger’s seat to trace the curve of Sal’s crossed legs up to the hem of his skirt. He bit his lip, forcing his eyes back on the road and fidgeting with the thermostat. He was uncomfortably hot.

 

The brunette’s behavior didn’t go unnoticed to Sal. He had expected Larry’s compliments, his supportive enthusiasm, even, when he’d chosen tonight’s outfit. He hadn’t explicitly considered, however, that all it would take to reduce Larry to a flustered mess—to get his boyfriend to look at him _like that_ —was a hand-me-down skirt and a pair of fancy socks.

 

Sal would be lying to himself if he said that being able to put Larry in such a state wasn’t going to his head .

 

When they arrived at their destination, Larry was quick to wrap a possessive arm around Sal’s shoulder. The brunette had always had a possessive streak, even long before they started dating, but tonight felt different. There was a weight and a heat to Larry’s hold on him he couldn’t quite place.

 

They found Ash and Todd tucked into a booth in the back of the bar, isolated from the loud speakers and crowds of drunk, sloppy dancers.

 

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Ash called over the music, motioning for them to sit. Larry chuckled and slid into the booth beside her, an awkward fit considering how abnormally long his legs were.

 

“Sorry,” he jerked his head towards Sal as the shorter boy—much more gracefully—slid in next to the brunette, “Someone took his sweet time making himself pretty.”

 

Sal scoffed, “Yea, it took you, like, what, an hour to do your hair, dear?”

 

Larry pulled Sal closer to press his nose into soft blue waves, “I was talking about you, smartass.”

 

Todd snorted behind his hand and Ash shook her head, a cheesy grin on her face. They were used to the boys’ teasing by now. Even still, it never ceased to amuse them.

 

“You’re both such divas.” Todd observed.

 

“Says you.” Larry smirked.

 

“Touché, Johnson.”

 

“Well, the wait was worth it. You look hot as fuck, Sal.” Ash raised her beer to her mouth and took a swig. “Giving you that skirt was the best idea I’ve had in a long time.”

 

“Thanks, Ash.” The blue haired boy reached to toy absentmindedly with the hem of the skirt, nearly missing the way that Larry’s eyes followed the motion. 

 

The reaction reminded him of the ride there, the frustrated expression on Larry’s face, the way he couldn’t keep his eyes off Sal, the stifling tension that filled the tight space of their car. It was rare that Sal found a way to get under Larry’s skin. The dude was so chill; there was very little he could do to fluster him. Well, until now.

 

Feeling a little bold, a little daring, he daintily crossed his legs over one of the taller boy’s under the table. Larry gasped, barely audible above the blare of the speakers, then swallowed hard. He cast a nervous glance down towards his lap, his hands hovering awkwardly above Sal’s thighs.

 

The latter raised an eyebrow at the reaction, lips upturned in a smirk no one could see—thank God. That’d ruin the game before he’d really even started playing.

 

Sal curled progressively closer into Larry in the time it took for them to get their drinks. The former idly ran his fingers up and down the length of his own thigh, pausing occasionally to trace the hem of his skirt or his stockings, as he pretended to be very invested in Todd’s recount of a documentary he’d watched recently. All the while, Larry’s eyes never left the movement of the shorter boy’s fingers, his lip caught painfully between crooked teeth.

 

When the blue haired boy stood to go to the bathroom, he—accidentally—knocked his phone off the table. And although it truly was an accident, Sal Fisher was no coward; he wouldn’t let such a perfect opportunity go to waste.

 

Sal leaned over, only slightly bending his knees to ensure some measure of decency, retrieved his phone, and languidly straightened. He didn’t have to turn around to see if Larry was watching his little display. He already knew he had been; he could feel the weight of the taller’s eyes on him as he walked away. Teasing Larry Johnson was exhilarating, and Sal thought it was a real shame the opportunity hadn’t presented itself sooner.

 

He returned from the bathroom to find Larry thoroughly invested in a debate with Ash over which flavor of Doritos was superior. The brunette seemed tense, antsy, even, and not just because his favorite snack food was under scrutiny. Sal resumed his position next to him, opting to keep his legs to himself this time, but still crossing them neatly.

 

“You guys are both wrong,” Sal interrupted, “Doritos suck. Period.”

 

Ash placed a hand over her chest in mock horror, “You, sir, are a heathen.”

 

She continued rambling, but Sal couldn’t keep up because suddenly the smoldering heat of Larry’s hand was gripping the inside of his thigh just beneath the hem of his skirt. Sal startled, looking down at his lap, then up to gauge the brunette’s expression. Larry’s gaze didn’t falter from Ash as she graced all of them with a monologue about junk food. Worse, still, the bastard was _smirking_. 

 

The tables had turned. Yes, Sal had expected to frustrate Larry with all his teasing. Yes, he knew he’d be made thoroughly aware of that when they got home. He hadn’t, however, anticipated just how thoroughly he’d managed to get under Larry’s skin, thoroughly enough that his easy-going, sweet, soft boyfriend was now teasing slow circles into the skin of his inner thigh.

 

The brunette’s fingers crept under his skirt and squeezed, then moved impossibly higher to repeat the motion. Again, Sal glanced at Larry, but the brunette was seemingly lost in conversation.

 

Fingernails grazed the sensitive skin of Sal’s inner thigh, making his breath hitch. He reached to still the brunette’s ministrations, only to go rigid at the sensation of Larry’s fingertips brushing lightly over his growing arousal. His eyes briefly fluttered shut, then snapped open as he remembered where he was—at a crowded bar with their friends: definitely not the time or place for whatever this _situation_ was quickly becoming.

 

Biting his lip, Sal shifted awkwardly as he willed himself to focus on anything but Larry’s thumb teasing the head of his dick through his underwear. The brunette was applying just enough friction to make Sal squirm, pausing only to grab the outline of his half-hard cock and rub it painfully slow. It was too much and not enough all at once and Sal was going to lose his mind.

 

The shorter boy did his best to bite back little whimpers and gasps, his hands white-knuckled on the edge of the cushioned seat in a desperate attempt to ground himself. Larry, on the other hand, looked nothing short of casual, save the smug glint in his eyes, his chin resting on the hand that wasn’t preoccupied with torturing Sal from beneath the table.

 

When Larry’s fingers slowly pulled the fabric of his underwear away enough to lightly brush his entrance, Sal nearly lost it. He hissed, as if in pain, feeling heat spread from the tips of his ears down to his collar bones. Larry chuckled, but neither Ash nor Todd had said something worth laughing about as far as Sal could tell. He decided tonight was the night he’d end up killing Larry Johnson.

 

The culprit in question started to draw slow circles around Sal’s puckered entrance, causing the shorter boy to unconsciously uncross and part his legs, giving Larry better access, only to snap them closed again.

 

This wasn’t fair. Maybe Sal had overdone the teasing but this was far too much. The music in the bar had become less than background noise as Larry’s fingers quickly reduced Sal to a squirming, breathless mess.

 

“... Sal? Hey, Sal, are you okay?” Todd’s voice ripped the boy from his trance, “You’re fidgeting a lot… and you’re sweating. Are you sick or something?”

 

Mortified and embarrassed, Sal inhaled a shaky breath, “… y-yea I’m fi—” he choked mid sentence as he felt Larry's finger breach his entrance and press into him as deep as the angle allowed, “ … fine.”

 

“Are you sure? You do seem pretty out of it…” Ash chimed in.

 

As grateful as Sal was for his friends’ concern, he couldn’t help the prickle of annoyance that flooded through him under their prying.

 

Sal’s mouth worked silently to speak through the lazy thrusts of Larry’s fingers. He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood.

 

“Y-yEs… f-fuck,” he couldn’t help the surprised gasp that escaped him as Larry’s finger curled inside him, pressing deliciously against his prostate. 

 

He turned to Larry to shoot him what he’d hoped would be an intimidating glare, but in his state he could only manage a pleading look.

 

Thankfully, Larry took the hint and slowed his movements enough for the blue haired boy to form a coherent answer.

 

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a little out of it.” He hadn’t the willpower nor mental energy to form a proper excuse. The only coherent thought his mind could form was _Larry, Larry, Larry._

 

Ash quirked an eyebrow, looking from Sal to Larry suspiciously, “Okay. Just making sure.”

Her attention was suddenly redirected when a familiar song started to echo through the bar.

 

“Oh my god, I love this song! Come dance with me, Todd?”

 

“Okay, fine, but you owe me a drink after.”

 

The two slid out from the booth and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Sal and Larry alone. The former startled when Larry swiftly removed his finger from inside him, only to be pulled into the brunette’s lap.

 

“Fucking finally.” Larry all but growled into Sal’s neck as he wrapped his arms around the smaller boy.

 

Sal could feel Larry’s hard-on press against the curve of his ass through their clothing, his breath hitching with the realization that _he’d_ done that; _he’d_ made Larry painfully hard and all he’d had to do was be an absolute tease. The taller’s hands roamed from Sal’s chest to his waist, finally gripping his hips hard enough to bruise.

 

“You’ve been enjoying yourself tonight, haven’t you, baby?” Larry’s voice was deep and carried an uncharacteristically aggressive lilt, his breath hot against Sal's ear, “Teasing me with that little outfit.” He ground his hips up against the smaller boy as if to punctuate his statement, making Sal gasp and shudder.

 

“I wasn’t gonna do anything to you until we got home, but you haven’t really made it easy for me to wait, have you babe…”

 

Larry was still grinding against Sal, kissing and sucking bruises onto the pale exposed skin of his neck.

 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” were the last words the brunette spoke before Sal felt him reach between them to unzip his own jeans.

 

“Wait… you want to do this _here_?” Sal laughed breathlessly.

 

Larry’s only response was to nip at Sal’s ear and roll his hips into him.

 

“F-fuck, Lar—”

 

The taller’s hands had once again found their way beneath Sal’s skirt, this time with more fervor. He couldn’t help but grow helplessly more aroused at the thought of Larry fucking him, doing anything to him in the dim light of the crowded bar.

 

Light, teasing touches quickly became firmer, faster as Larry’s hands moved from Sal’s thighs to his cock, now fully hard and tenting his skirt under the table. He squeezed it lightly, only to move further down and once again pull Sal’s fishnets and underwear aside.

 

Sal heard Larry spit into his free hand and reach down to coat his entrance before pressing a finger inside, the sudden motion earning a hiss from the former. A second digit joined the first, and Sal’s breathless gasps and sighs rapidly devolved into pitiful little whimpers. He was trying desperately to quiet himself as much as possible but Larry’s fingers had found his prostate again and were setting a relentless pace.

 

The smaller boy reached behind himself blindly to cup Larry’s cheek, and the brunette leaned into his touch, grinding his hips into Sal’s again. Then, Larry curled his fingers inside the blue haired boy _just right_. It had hardly been a minute since their friends had left, yet Larry had sufficiently reduced his boyfriend to a shuddering, whimpering mess.

 

Two fingers became three and Sal was writhing in Larry’s lap, only managing to take Larry’s fingers deeper, grind against the latter’s dick harder with the motion. Sal was whining his name between gasps and trembling fits; the stimulation wasn’t enough, he needed more, he needed—

 

“Lar, please, I want—” he choked on a gasp as he craned his neck to look up at the taller boy.

 

Larry looked down to meet his eyes, his face flushed and contorted by a goofy, devilish grin.

 

“What do you want, baby?” He rolled his hips into Sal, pressing his excitement into the crevice of his ass.

 

Sal jerkily met his hips with his own, hoping the brunette would get the picture.

 

Larry clicked his tongue as he locked his eyes on pleading blue ones, “Ah, ah, ah… Use your words, angel.”

 

The demand sent another shudder down Sal’s spine and he nearly sobbed; he still had too much pride to beg, at least the way Larry wanted him to. He shook his head, thankful that his prosthetic concealed the look of desperation on his face.

 

All too quickly, Larry’s fingers stilled and were removed from his ass and Sal tangled his fingers into the fabric of Larry’s sleeve in surprise, torn between wanting to shove those fingers back inside him and push Larry away entirely.

 

“What—what the fuck are you doing?” He asked breathlessly, hoping he sounded as displeased as he felt.

 

Larry’s fingers were back to circling his fluttering hole, his touch so light Sal thought he’d imagined it.

 

“You’ve spent the whole night teasing me, angel. I’m not gonna _reward_ you for frustrating the hell out of me in front of our friends.” Larry all but growled into Sal’s neck, “If you want me to continue, you’ll ask nicely _and_ explicitly.”

 

Sal couldn’t help but shudder at his boyfriend’s tone.

 

“F-fuck you, Johnson.”

 

“That isn’t what I meant by asking nicely, Sal.”

_Okay, fine_. Sal was too horny to give a damn and it wasn’t like they had all the time in the world to wrap this up. Their friends would be back any minute, and he would never recover from the shame if they were caught like this.

 

Much to Sal’s chagrin, the prospect of getting caught only made the searing heat between his thighs burn hotter, made his desire run deeper. He looked into Larry’s eyes, expression softening at the adoring, expectant smile his boyfriend was managing to give him despite the situation.

 

“Please,” Sal swallowed thickly, “I need you to—I need you inside me, Lar.”

 

“Need _what_ inside you, baby?” Larry’s tone was smug and Sal huffed in frustration.

 

“Y-your cock.” His voice barely rose above a whisper.

 

“Good boy.”

 

In one swift, graceful motion Larry pulled the waistband of his boxers down just enough to free his dick, lifted Sal’s hips slightly to line himself up with his entrance, and pressed in as gently as he could manage under the circumstances.

 

Both boys moaned a little too loudly at the contact, and Larry bit down hard into the juncture of Sal’s neck to stifle himself. The shorter boy slammed a hand on the table as he rode a wave of dizzying pleasure.

 

Through his haze, Sal heard Larry whisper, “Are you sure you’re okay with this, baby?”        

 

“God, yes…” the shorter boy hissed through gritted teeth, “But if you get us caught you’re as good as dead, Johnson.”

           

He felt Larry laugh breathlessly against his neck, his voice dropping impossibly lower, rougher, “Then you’ll just have to be a good boy,” he slid the rest of his length inside, the stretch of it eliciting a choked moan from Sal, “and keep yourself quiet. Can you do that for me, angel?”

 

Sal could only nod in obedience, any verbal reply cut short when Larry rolled his hips experimentally.

 

“... oh fuc—” The shorter boy brought a fist to his plastic lips in hopes of silencing himself as Larry repeated the motion, “... Lar—”

 

Larry had started rocking into Sal as discreetly as he could, the shorter meeting each roll of his hips a little too enthusiastically. To any unknowing passers-by, it might have seemed that, at best, Sal was administering a poorly coordinated lap-dance, and at worst the two boys were just drunkenly dry humping.

 

Larry had started to murmur nonsense into the nape of Sal’s neck between his half-thrusts, “Shit— you’re so fucking tight, baby… so beautiful… so fucking perfect… taking my cock like a good little boy.”

 

Sal could only whimper breathlessly at his words. His entire body was burning with the torturous friction; all he wanted was to ride Larry’s cock, to rock his hips harder, to take him deeper. Sure, he didn’t want to get banned from the bar, but he was too far gone to give a damn about anything other than Larry thoroughly fucking the shit out of him.

 

Before he could stop himself, Sal had braced both his hands on the table, lifted his hips so that only the tip of Larry’s cock remained inside him, and then he sank back down, thighs shaking with the effort of moving slowly and inconspicuously.

 

Once again fully seated onto Larry’s dick, the shorter boy practically sobbed, his body going rigid. The angle had changed and now Larry’s length was pressed perfectly and relentlessly against his prostate.

 

“Fuck, baby—” The brunette gasped as Sal clenched around him and started to rock against him, grinding against that spot over and over again.

 

Sal was helpless to do anything but mewl, “Lar… Larry, fuck—please…”

 

The shorter boy was finally receiving the friction he’d been craving. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer like this, what with all the teasing, Larry edging him on for what felt like an eternity, and the sheer fact that they were literally fucking in a bar full of people. Larry wasn’t far behind if the sloppiness of his half-thrusts was any indication.

 

The closer Sal felt to coming, the clearer it became that he wouldn’t be able to keep himself quiet for much longer.

 

Fortunately, he had half the mind to look up at Larry again and pant out between breathless moans, “Lar… baby, c-cover my mouth… ”

 

The brunette, despite everything, gave him a look of confusion.

 

He yanked one of Larry’s hands from his hips, guiding it to the mouth of his prosthetic to encourage him, “... I can’t—I’m gonna cum—need you…” he bit back a particularly loud moan, “k-keep me quiet… please—”

 

Larry couldn’t help but moan in response, his large hand immediately clamping over the shorter boy’s plastic lips, grip firm but light enough for Sal to pull away if he needed to.

 

The feeling of his throat constricting with the effort to breathe through Larry’s hand was just enough to send Sal over the edge, and he came in his underwear with a muffled, choked sob, clawing into the denim of Larry’s pants.

 

The brunette fucked him through it gently, kissing the back of his head and the nape of his neck as he cooed, “Such a pretty baby… so fucking perfect… cumming so good for me.”

 

The taller removed his hand from Sal’s mouth, allowing the boy to catch his breath as his body went limp with exhaustion. Sal felt Larry’s hips stutter, his thighs quivering underneath his grip. He bit into Sal’s neck to silence his own pleasure, arms wrapped tight around Sal as he came, spilling into him.

 

Larry slipped out of the boy in his arms, loosening his hold on him as they both caught their breath, nuzzling his nose into sweaty blue hair. He caressed Sal’s arms in an attempt to ground them both.

 

“Holy shit…” Sal huffed, breathing still labored as he relaxed into Larry’s touch, forgetting their location almost entirely.

 

The brunette laughed hoarsely in response, “... yea. Yea, that was—”

 

“Hot?”

 

“ _Really_ fucking hot.”

 

Sal snorted, which quickly devolved into a fit of embarrassed giggles. Larry was still too out of breath to tap into the oxygen stores that laughing required, so he settled for smiling widely into Sal’s neck, once again wrapping his arms tightly around him.

 

“Lar, we should probably, uh, go to the bathroom before they come back,” the shorter boy suggested, tapping one of Larry’s biceps to get his attention. The mess in his underwear and Larry’s come leaking from his ass had started to become sticky, cold, and altogether uncomfortable.

 

“Okay, princess,” the brunette sighed fondly, “Let’s go clean you up.”

 

Sal stood, wincing slightly; he was messy, sore, and thoroughly fucked out. Larry had tucked himself back into his jeans to join Sal, draping his massive leather jacket around his shoulders to hide some of the evidence of their activities.

 

He wrapped an arm around Sal and guided him through the crowd of oblivious dancers to a single-stall bathroom, slipping inside together discreetly. Locking the door behind him, Larry knelt down between Sal’s thighs where he sat on the closed lid of the toilet. The brunette looked up at him, his sweet, doe-ish brown eyes gazing lovingly into an ocean of electric blue.

 

Running his hands along Sal’s thighs, Larry whispered, “Can I kiss you?”

 

Sal nodded exhaustedly, moving to unbuckle his prosthetic, but his boyfriend shooed his hands away, replacing them with his own gentle touch. He undid the straps, sliding the mask off of Sal’s face and placing it next to them on the sink.

 

One of Larry’s hands cupped Sal’s cheek, running his thumb along a raised scar under his eye. Then he guided the shorter boy into a chaste kiss.

 

Sal leaned into the touch, slotting their mouths together more comfortably. He pulled away slightly to bite Larry’s bottom lip, then soothed the aggravated skin with a lick and another peck.

 

Pulling away, Larry looked into his boyfriend’s eyes and whispered, “I know you’ll probably never believe me, Sal,” he paused to peck his half-nose, “but you are,” then his forehead and cheeks, “the most beautiful person,” then once again on his scarred lips, “in the entire world.”

 

The shorter boy smiled, too weak to protest Larry’s praise. Instead, he leaned his forehead against his boyfriend’s, mouthing “I love you, I love you so, so much.”

 

Begrudgingly, Larry pulled away to fetch a few wet paper towels. He then resumed his position between Sal’s thighs and spread them so he could wipe away their mess as best as he could.

 

“You were so good for me tonight, baby.” he continued his praising, Sal relaxing under his ministrations, “So brave.”

 

Sal snorted at that, earning a huff from Larry.

 

“Don’t laugh! It’s true!” He finished wiping Sal clean and tossed the soiled towels in the trash bin, “It takes balls to do what we just did.”

 

“Pfft, yea. It _literally ‘_ takes balls.’”

 

“Oh my god, Sal.” Larry leaned his head against the smaller boy’s chest, his shoulders shaking with laughter, “Here I was trying to be a good, supportive boyfriend and you’re making puns about balls.”

 

“Gotta make up for my looks somehow.” Sal joked, resting his chin on Larry’s head and wrapping his arms around his neck loosely.

 

Larry pinched his side at that, making Sal squeak as he replied, “Hush. Such lies will not be tolerated in my presence.”

 

“Ah yes, your majesty. Please forgive me…” Sal looked at Larry, his eyebrows knitted together in a mock-pleading expression.

 

“All is forgiven, angel,” Larry smiled warmly up at him, giving his scarred lips one last peck, “But we should probably go. Our entourage awaits.”

 

He clamoured to his feet, gesturing dramatically to the locked bathroom door with one hand, extending the other to Sal in invitation.

 

The shorter boy took Larry’s hand allowing himself to be pulled to his feet, but not before grabbing his mask and latching it back in place.

 

They left the bathroom, Larry first and Sal waiting a couple moments to trail behind him. Larry guided them back to their booth with entwined hands, where they found a noticeably sweatier Ash and Todd downing what was likely that compensation shot.

 

“Where have you two been?” Ash said, a disappointed, accusatory frown on her face.

 

“Stepped outside for a smoke. Didn’t realize we needed your permission, mom.” Sal said sarcastically.

 

“Shut up, you little shit.” She pointed a finger at him, shot glass still in hand.

 

“Well,” Larry sighed, “Not that this hasn’t been fun and all, but I think Sal and I are gonna head out.”

 

“Noooooo!” Ash whined, leaning into Todd’s shoulder, “You guys never stay long enough when we go out.”

 

“Yea, because Larry doesn’t like staying up past his bedtime.” Sal snorted and started to inch towards the exit.

 

Ash was still pouting, but laughed anyway, “Whatever.”

 

“See you guys later.” Todd said with a noncommittal salute.

 

When the boys got home, they shared a shower and crawled into bed, tangling their limbs together with practiced ease.

 

“Good night, angel,” the brunette whispered into Sal’s hair, voice groggy with exhaustion.

 

“G’night, Lar.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is my meager contribution to this fandom :)


End file.
